I’ve been having so much fun in Florida I fear I’ve been glossing over the messy stuff.

Like right after Dim Sum when Ben yelled he needed to potty. I got off that highway as fast as possible, leaving two sleeping babies and Jack in the car with my sister. But I wasn’t fast enough. When I pulled down his underwear, it was full of poop. No wipes, no change of clothes. I scrubbed his underwear in the sink while he sat on the toilet rubbing the remains into the seat. He had to go commando after that. He didn’t mind. In fact, I think he enjoyed it so much that he made a full frontal appearance at my father’s party later that evening.

Or the time that a freshly bathed Sam found my father’s wine rack and broke a perfectly good bottle of Marques de Caceres. He was drenched in wine and about to put the broken bottle top in his mouth before we got to him. We left Dad’s that night with a floor full of glass and a table full of dirty dishes. Some house guests we are!

The other day I wasn’t sure what was worse, changing Aaron’s four consecutive poopy diaper or then going to change Sam and finding one huge one that exploded out of the diaper, down the leg to the sock, and all over his  back and every other piece of clothing he had on.

While out eating crepes one lunch, Ben choked and threw up his entire lunch. I managed to catch it all on the plate. We all continued on as normal.

Neither twin has adapted easily to the smaller pack and play. It has made for many more wake ups very night.

It’s not that these incidents are not important, but since they happen so often it’s not as traumatic as it used to be. It has almost become normal. I’m pleased that I have gotten to a point in parenthood where I can laugh when these things occur instead of letting them upset me. Its a nice line to cross over. I will admit it was a but unnerving that I was able to catch all of Ben’s puke on a plate one handed without blinking an eye. We didn’t even talk about it after. Perhaps a line too far, that one.